In a Land Far Away to the East
by MyHeartBelongsInErebor
Summary: It was not just the abandonment of King Thranduil that hardened Thorin Oakenshield to the race of elves. Before the dragon came there was her and only her. Thorin would have given his life for her. His throne, his title, or his reputation mattered not if he could only have her; a Greenwood elf. Those who are now wisest were once the most reckless. Thorin Origin Story. Pre-Hobbit.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_The Coming of the Elves _

The mountain was abuzz with preparations. Every dwarf walked at double the speed while the amount of guards that normally guarded the halls tripled. The elves from Mirkwood were arriving the day after next for a meeting between King Thranduil and King Thror. It would be generous to say the mood of Erebor's population was a bit dampened.

Thorin rubbed his face in frustration as he exited Thrain's study. His father had been reteaching him and his siblings the proper techniques for diplomacy with the elves. Techniques he was well aware of, he could negotiate with an elf in his sleep. He had suspected the impromptu "lesson" had been for Dis; the one who couldn't keep her mouth closed to a snide comment.

"I still see not what the issue is; I made a comment to one of Thranduil's guards. Those leaf lovers should not be so thin skinned," Dis complained, with a roll of her eyes.

Thorin stayed silent. He didn't feel like explaining to Dis — again— why she couldn't behave as the other dwarves did towards the elves. It would only fall on deaf ears. Not that he was for defending the "leaf lovers" as Dis phrased it. He was no more fond of elves than any other dwarf; he just knew how to compose himself as a royal should.

"You threatened their king!" Frerin laughed, giving her a shove.

She bumped into Thorin as he did so. He let out a long exhale. He was in no mood for banter — not even with Dis and Frerin. He had too much on his mind and too much pressure on his shoulders, as Thrain's heir, to engage in silly games.

"I did not!" she all but shouted, "I just told them that if we caught any of them pocketing gold, I'd skin their hairless hides. He was looking too longingly at a pile of gold. I was not talking to the king—"

"But the king was in the group and it was taken as a threat. That is all that matters," Thorin interrupted, "You should have kept your mouth shut."

Dis scoffed and gave him another eye roll. He detested when she did that. Deaf ears. Every time. He attempted to pick up his stride to break free of them in order to avoid an argument.

"Now come sister, you know Thorin's right. Besides what dwarf is going to want a dwarrowdam who holds such a hostile tongue such as yourself," Frerin tisked.

Thorin resisted to roll his own eyes. Frerin was trying to rile her up, and it was not appreciated—at least not at the present time. He heard Dis give a sound that reminded him eerily close to a raven shrieking.

"I, Frerin son of Thrain, do not need a husband. Maybe I am hostile and if a dwarf cannot accept that then he can throw himself from the ramparts." Frerin snickered beside her.

He sped up again, Frerin was matching his stride. Thorin figured he was doing so to spite him.

"Frerin," he warned his brother. The last thing he needed was to be sighted by a councilman fighting with his siblings as they walked through the halls. Then they would be led right back to his father's study to have a lesson on proper public etiquette. Thorin had had too many of those conversations too. The vast amount of times he had found himself on the receiving end of a lecture — usually at the fault of his siblings —astounded him. Yet Frerin seemed to do no wrong. Dis on the other hand was scolded often by their mother for not being ladylike enough — which again always fell on deaf ears.

His brother met his gaze and Thorin gave him a sharp look. Frerin stopped antagonizing their sister, but he held Thorin's gaze with defiance. Frerin had told Thorin on more than one occasion that his stoic attitude was only going to cause more grief for him than not.

_"__You'll catch more flies with honey than vinegar," _he had jested. Thorin did not find it amusing.

They arrived in the treasure hall where they saw their grandfather discussing matters with three guards. He seemed quite intense. Thorin decided he should find out what was being discussed; Frerin and Dis followed.

"I want at least three guards stationed at every entrance to the treasure hall and I want twenty guards in the room at all times," Thror demanded, his voice booming against the walls.

One of the guards shook his head hesitantly, "My king, we cannot expend that many dwarves to the treasure hall. We need them watching living corridors."

Thorin furrowed his brow. He didn't understand why there needed to be so many men dedicated to the treasure hall. Elves weren't to be trusted, but they weren't going to attempt to loot the entire hall either. Twenty men, three shifts — eight hours a piece— meant that sixty guards would be devoted to the treasure hall alone. That hardly seemed the wise course of action.

"I don't want excuses; I want my orders followed! I am the king!" Thror shouted, and then tilted his head down, his gaze burning into the captain, "You will do as I say."

"Yes sire," he nodded quickly and turned on his heel all but scampering away.

Thror looked back towards the three siblings where they stood at the entrance. Thorin noticed that his eyes were wild like a warg's; hungry and violent. His face fell and he quickly walked in the opposite direction of them, disappearing in the sea of gold.

"That was queer," Dis whispered, the playful tone in her voice gone.

Frerin nodded and looked to Thorin, but Thorin had no answers. His eyes watched the last of his grandfather's coat disappear behind a mound.

"What happened Thorin? Did the elves make threat?" Frerin asked, stepping closer to him.

"I-I," he started, "I don't know. Never before have I seen him act like so." A deep fear rooted itself in Thorin's stomach. He didn't want to see that gleam in his grandfather's eye ever again.

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_Oh to Be Young _

Alea raced through the forest. Trees blazed passed her in blurs. She leapt over an arched root and landed back on the soft moss floor. The moist forest floor which she normally adored could not be felt under her feet as she sprinted through the brush.

There were hooves beating against the ground. She risked looking behind her. The great white elk was running after her; it whined. A laugh rang from inside her catching itself in the wind.

"Gad nin! **[Catch me!]**" she challenged, her words barley recognizable as she breathed heavily.

The sound of the hooves increased in pace and Alea let her feet carry her on their own accord as she began to descend down a hill. Her hair was blowing wildly behind her, she could feel it whip her shoulders as she ran.

She could hear the elk's breathing from behind her. Its grunts becoming closer and closer. She yelled out as it began to pass her and she tried to match its speed. The city gates were coming into view, as was the bridge crossing the canyon below. Only one of them could pass at a time. She tried her hardest to push through the barriers of her muscles, but the beast pulled ahead.

"Law! **[No!]**" she cried as she saw that she was beaten.

It crossed the bridge just as she was running onto it and stopped to look back at her. She slowed her steps to a brisk walk. The elk shook it head at her and reared, clearly happy at its victory.

"Er arad **[One day.]**," she said towards the animal, a smile shining through her threat.

It gave her a quick snort, letting her know she couldn't best him, and he was off back towards the river. She rolled her eyes and walked towards the gates. The guards acknowledged her with a nod and then opened the gates.

She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to remove the bits and pieces of twigs and leaves from her tangles. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted King Thranduil; which meant her father wasn't far behind. She attempted to slink towards the stairs that lead to her living chambers. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth as she attempted to be as silent as possible.

"Alea!"

Her eyes snapped shut and her hands clenched. She was caught. Bringing an innocent smile to her lips, she turned towards her father.

"Adar!"

His eyes narrowed at her. She kept her smile in place, even though she knew that he caught her doing what she wasn't supposed to be doing. King Thranduil was farther behind him, about thirty feet, conversing with the Captain of the Guard. He too was giving her a knowing look. She looked away, attempting to not smirk. Apparently it didn't work.

"You know better than this, Alea. You were to be assisting with preparing for the great feast in half a moon's time. Yet, I find you returning from the forest, alone, looking as if you have just encountered an orc pack."

She groaned, "Adar, I do not want to help prim and paint the great halls. I was only out a little ways. I was wanting to collect a few mallos and I was going to return right after, but I—"

"Became distracted?"

Knowing it was better to admit defeat than to try to best the 3000 year old elf in a game of wits, Alea hung her head, "Apologies, Adar."

Her father's face lessened in sternness and was replaced by a small smile, "My pîn randir **[little wanderer]**." He reached forward and pulled a small leaf from her hair that she missed.

She returned the smile, holding out her hand for the stowaway. He dropped it into her hand.

"So, as you know, we shall depart for Erebor this evening for the King's negotiation with King Thror."

Alea nodded, looking at the leaf in her hand. Her father was head of King Thranduil's council. He had to follow the king everywhere he went. This left ample opportunities for Alea's curiosity to best her and get her into trouble. It was normal for her father to return from a trip and greet her with "_What did you do this time?_"

"Since you seem so willing to defy my orders when I am here—"

Alea opened her mouth to defend herself, but was cut off with a sharp look.

"You will accompany me on the trip to the mountain."

This time Alea openly showed her discontent, "Adar! Why must I go with you? There are only dwarves there and there are no trees, plants, or even a single weed on that mountain. It's barren and worn. What will I even do there?"

"You will accompany me to the negotiations in which you are allowed and will remain within the guest quarters otherwise."

Alea pursed her lips and grumbled, "I care nothing for politics."

"Good, then there will be no cause for you to insert your opinions."

She looked around, attempting to find a cause that would make her father change his mind. Truly, she had gotten herself into this mess. She had been pushing her father for some time, she knew, but had been too caught in up in her curiosity to care. Finding no argument, she looked back at him, "This is not a fair punishment."

"Then you should behave as if you are your true age, Alea. You are four hundred years old. It is time you stopped being a child caught up in your own imaginative world."

She didn't like the sound of that. Deciding to distract herself by lightening up the mood, she wrinkled her nose and whined, "But I still have to interact with dwarves in that dark, dreary cave of their they call a kingdom."

Her father gave her a satisfied look, "We will return in a week. I expect when we return, you will think twice before running off on your own adventures."

* * *

"Elves arrive this morning," Frerin thought out loud as tossed his empty goblet in the air, catching it and tossing it in the air once more. His rings clinked against the gold every time it returned to his hand.

Dis groaned, "I detest when Greenwood elves come. The ones from Rivendell have some resemblance of manners, but those from the Greenwood look down on us as if we were the mud that coats their boots."

Frerin laughed, "You speak of manners? Dis, I had no idea you knew what those things were."

"Hush, Frerin, leave your sister alone," their mother chided them. She walked behind the couch were Dis was seated and fixed her hair, "and sit up. A prince does not lay about on the furniture."

Thorin was leaned against the mantel. He was thinking back to Thror's actions a few nights back. The passed few days he seemed to be composed as he always was. Thorin had watched him carefully at dinner, taking special care to avoid conversation so he could see if that look returned at any point as his father discussed the elves visit. It hadn't.

Neither Frerin nor Dis had mentioned their grandfather's behavior. Thorin suspected it was because they didn't know what to think about it either, and they didn't want an opinion. They would rather claim it was an isolated incident caused by the burden of the elves visit and nothing more. Thorin wanted to think that as well, but the feeling deep in his stomach told him otherwise.

"Amad, I'm third in line for the throne. After father and then after Thorin, I don't need to behave civilized. The odds the throne will ever be passed to me are slim at best."

"Unless Thorin can't find a queen to give him heirs," Dis joked, "which seems likely with his prickly personality." Thorin looked at his hands uncomfortably.

"Dis!"

"Well, we know you're not going to be giving Erebor any heirs, sister!" Frerin retorted throwing a couch pillow in her direction.

"Frerin!"

"So what if I don't!" she yelled back, blocking the pillow, "We'll be the line of Durin who could produce no heirs and the kingdom shall surely fall to ruin!" She laughed, "What a disgrace!"

Their mother opened her mouth to scold the pair, but Thorin beat them to it, "Enough, you will not speak such poisonous nonsense in my presence."

Dis's eyes widened and she quickly looked down at her wine. "I didn't mean anything by it," she whispered. Thorin felt his frustration falter. He hadn't meant to lash out. Walking past her, intentionally ignoring her, he moved towards the balcony.

He could see far out towards the lake and could see the small outline of Esgaroth. The wind wasn't as cold on this side of the mountain, and Thorin inhaled the fresh air. His hands spread out on the stone railing as he leaned forward.

Looking below he could see a small mass making it's way towards the mountain. Nervousness pooled in his chest. The Greenwood elves had come many times before, but this was the first time after Thrain had officially named him heir. Nothing had really changed, yet everything already had. Thorin was almost beside himself with fret about the impression he'd make on the elves. He wouldn't be a leader they did not take seriously.

"Dis's comment was out of line," his mother softly called him out of his thoughts, "but you know she was only attempting to make light of the harsh mood we are all in. In her own way, she was trying to help."

Thorin didn't face her, but he looked down at the small cracks in the stone. He followed them as they disappeared over the ledge. He was caught between being two people. Dis and Frerin's brother and the future king.

"I know, mother, I apologize," he stepped away from the balcony, "I should have not have acted so."

She smiled sadly at him and ran a hand through the front of his hair, brushing a bit back into place, "Your father puts too much pressure on you."

Thorin shook his head, "It's well deserved. I have much to learn and have many areas in which I need to improve. I'm not like them."

She caught his gaze once more, "Perhaps that is a good thing. Becoming king is difficult enough, but don't lose yourself along the way," she paused, giving him a joy filled grin, "You make me miss reprimanding you and Frerin for getting into mischief."

Try as he might, he couldn't contain his smirk, "You still have Dis to reign under control. She'll never give you the opportunity to miss scolding her."

"Oh, Thorin you and I both know that is a lost cause," she shook her head and sighed, "She is young, but so are you. Don't forget that. You only get to be young and carefree once, don't be in such a hurry to grow into a great king. Enjoy the life given to you as it comes, the time will pass anyway."

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_The Wonders of the Lonely Mountain_

Alea had never been to Erebor before. She had seen the mountain from afar several times. Her trips to Esgaroth gave her a close enough glimpse, but she had never been inside its stone walls before.

She could here children yelling in merriment near Dale, a city laying a stone's throw from Erebor's gates. From where she stood she could hear all the excitement buzzing from within. Her eyes caught site of brightly colored kites flying in the spring breeze.

"Greetings King Thraduil!"

Pulled away from her wondering thoughts, she looked to the source of the voice to find a dwarf bowing to them quickly. _He must have drawn the short straw._

He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, displaying a smile that Alea could not determine if it was fake or not. Thranduil nodded towards the dwarf, as did the rest of the council.

"My name is…"

Alea soon lost interest and was looking straight up into the sky. The mountain went so high up it it appeared to pierce the sky and disappear into the void. Her eyes traced the ridges and crevices of the great stone.

In front of the mountain were strong gates that gleamed green. The rock which they were built marbled and its delicate lines seemed to glitter in the sun. She looked from the top of the gates where many dwarf warriors stood, clad in armor, bows in hand. Alea could feel her face fall to one of annoyance. Dwarves and their mistrust.

"If you will just follow me inside, I will present you to his majesty."

She dismounted from her horse and began pulling her belongings off with her. Not knowing what she would have to do in a "damp, dark cave" she brought along many books. Perhaps not the wisest idea for travel of this sort.

Her father reached around her and threw her bag over his shoulder, "On you best behavior."

Alea —unenthusiastically—nodded, thoroughly exhausted from hearing that phrase for the umpteenth time since they had departed the Greenwood. He had drilled her on proper etiquette during her stay in the mountain. "Only speak when spoken to", "never wander off", "do not yawn or display exhaustion during a negotiation." It seemed as if he would never cease.

She walked behind her father as the entered the great gates. Upon closer inspection, Alea found that the gates actually had small seams of gold swirled throughout the rock and it was the seams that had given off the delicate glitter from a distance. However, her interest in the gates' beauty was short-lived compared to her awe of the city within the rock.

There seemed to stretch endless walkways that spiraled left, right, or even both ways. One could almost feel agoraphobic in such a place. When you looked up, you saw only ever climbing staircases and she felt the overwhelming longing to find out what lay at the very top. Equally as daunting was the view if she looked over the edge of the walk way in which she stood. The floor was nowhere in sight, only a continuous drop deeper into the earth than Alea dared to guess.

They were being led up a flight of stairs by the same dwarf who had welcomed them. He continued to be chatty towards her father and the other councilmen, but she caught the eyes of several dwarves as they passed. They all seemed to glare at her, even if they weren't looking in her direction.

A woman stopped as she walked by, pushing her child protectively behind her. Her eyes were set on Alea as if she were a hungry wolf about to devour her young. It happened again a few minutes later. Alea wondered if it was because she was an elf or because she was a female elf. Either way, the continuous looks made her uneasy.

Suddenly the pathways disappeared and all that was left was one solitary path leading to a column that seemed to branch of into the ceiling as if it were a tree. When she looked again, she saw that it was, in fact, a throne, and the king sitting on stop of it looked none-to-pleased to see elves in his home.

* * *

Thorin watched the elves approach. He never liked the eery way they walked; it was as if they glided across the floor. It was unsettling how quiet their footsteps were. King Thranduil was leading the group followed by his lead advisor, Lathlaeril— who shadowed a smaller figure standing tightly behind him—then four more councilmen and then six guards. Thirteen. Thorin locked that number in his mind.

"Greetings King Thror," Thranduil greeted, giving his grandfather a brief nod. Thorin watched him motion a guard forward who carried a large chest towards Thror. The guard sat the chest at his feet and Thrain stepped forward to inspect the offering.

When the chest was opened, it gleamed from the inside. Diamonds that seemed to produce their own light were staring back at him. He dared a look at his grandfather, but felt instant relief when he did not see the hunger in his eye. Rather, Thror nodded.

"And to you, Elven King of the Greenwood. We are appreciative of your journey to Erebor. We shall hold a feast tonight in your honor, we hope you will feel most welcome in our halls."

Thorin felt himself suppress a grin. Thror wouldn't care if the elves were forced to sit on broken glass and eat spoiled meat, but politics always came first. He felt a nudge on his right. Looking over at Frerin, he followed his line of sight.

"That one has been searching for something since they arrived," he said, leaning closer to Thorin, his voice hardly audible.

Thorin saw that he was looking at the smaller figure. It was now that he saw it was a she-elf. This was the first time he had seen her, and Frerin was right, her eyes seemed to looking at everything except the exchange happening in front of her.

"I don't like it," Frerin said.

"Nor do I."

"Our gratitude. It is seldom we are able to enjoy the infamous hospitality of dwarves," King Thranduil replied, a small smirk appeared on the king's face. Thorin wouldn't have seen it if he had not been searching for it. His stomach tightened. That tree shagger dared to slight them, in their own halls. Thorin could see Frerin starting forward, but he caught his arm.

Thror was quick to retort though, "It is so seldom we have a forest to spare in order to feed a company of elves, seeing as you have such a delicate diet for 'immortal' beings."

Frerin snickered beside him. He gave him a sharp jab in the ribs with his elbow, Frerin's laughter turning into a cough. Thorin's eyes landed on the she-elf once more, she was rolling her eyes at what he presumed to be Thror's comment. He did not approve of the disrespect. Her eyes continued to roam around the hall, now she was looking over the side the walkway. What was she looking for?

* * *

"No talking while eating. No eating with your hands. No remarking about how distasteful the food is…"

Alea was laying on the bed in her guest chamber. Her legs were thrown over the side and she was swinging her ankles so that they hit the baseboard with a -thump- earning her a glare from her father who was in the middle of "reminding" her how to behave at dinner.

"No swinging your legs under the table. No addressing the King as Thranduil. I am aware he allows you to do so when we are in the privacy of the Greenwood, but do not do so here. Do not-."

"Adar!" she shouted interrupting him, sitting up, "Enough! I'm not going to make a fool of myself."

He gave her a hard look, "We will be eating with the dwarven royal family. I expect you to keep your opinions of what is being discussed to yourself. Understood?"

With a huff, she nodded, "Yes, Adar."

Her and her father, being led by two guards, were headed towards the Great Hall. She was walking behind her father, lagging because of her curious eyes. She was still trying to take in the —-as much as it hurt her to say it—fantastic mountain.

The turned to the right and Alea could not help, but stare in awe at the great treasure hoard that could be seen just below them. Her mouth was agape. An endless sea of gold. Even if she lived for all of eternity, she was sure she could never spend that much treasure. As the gold pile fell behind then, Alea strained to keep looking, mesmerized.

When she could no longer see the glimmering hoard, she looked forward only to come face-to-face with a rather tall dwarf. His dark brown eyes were boring into her. She recognized him as one of Thror's princes.

Suddenly realizing she was in a compromising position she took a step back and nervously brushed her hands on her dress skirts. It was dark in the hallway, but she could still make out his blonde hair color from the torchlight.

"Apologies," she stammered, very unelflike, "I wasn't watching where I was going."

He didn't answer, but kept his stern glare on her. She swallowed rather hard, not sure what to do. She could side step him, but what if he stopped her?

"Alea!" her father called from around the corner, he was assuming she had fallen behind to stare at something —which wasn't completely untrue at this point.

Finding courage in her father being so close, she yelled back, not taking her eyes off the dwarf, "I'm coming!"

She quickly darted around the intimidating dwarf. Her rather came into view rather quickly. He had his arms crossed and his eyebrow raised. Alea cared not about his stern look, she was just glad to be out of the awkward situation she had just been in.

Her father held open the door for her to enter ahead of him. She did so and immediately could spot Thranduil and the rest of the elves—they sat so far above the dwarves. They made their way over to the table. Her father took a seat on Thranduil's left, and she on her father's. She was only three seats away from the dwarf king.

She observed everyone at the table. Prince Thrain sat at his father's right. His wife sat next to him. She marveled at the oddity that female dwarves too had beards. Though it shouldn't have. Both male and female elves had no facial hair, why couldn't dwarves be just the opposite? She appeared very quiet and subdued compared to her loud husband.

There were three empty seats after Thrain's wife. Then the rest of the table was filled with what Alea assumed to be Thror's counsel. On her left was the remainder of Thraduil's.

Her father was soon engaged in conversations between the dwarf lords and Thranduil. She wasn't sure exactly what to do with herself. Her plate was already filled and she began to pick at the kale that was laying on top.

A door opened and a younger looking dwarf came in. She looked a lot like Thrain's wife, but had his dark hair. She took a seat in the far right of the three empty seats. The dwarrowdam caught her eye and immediately glared at her. Alea looked away, embarrassed she had been staring. Trying to pretend her food was interesting enough to study, she tried to ignore the awkward feeling pooling in her stomach.

Just a few minutes later, she took a glance at the dwarrowdam once more. She was still looking at Alea, still glaring. And here I thought I was rude, she thought to herself. Flipping her hair over her shoulder in order to appear bored and nonchalant, she decided it wasn't worth her time to understand why these dwarf women seemed to keen on staring holes into her.

"Your majesty," she heard her father say, "I'd like to introduce you to my only daughter, Alea."

She looked up at her father, not appreciative of his introduction just as she had shoved an entire bite into her mouth, then to Thror. The dwarf looked at her sternly and then gave her a nod. She tried to swallow quickly.

"Pleasure to meet you, your majesty."

Was that the right phrase to say? Is there another title I should call him? Why can't royals just go by their name? They have a crown on their head, yet we have to memorize a list of titles to go along with it?

"Are you enjoying your first visit to my kingdom?" he asked her, apparently this wasn't going to just go away.

"Very much, sir, I must admit I am still trying to absorb it all. It's such a magnificent—"

She stopped when she saw the blonde dwarf walk in behind Thror. He wasn't alone. There was another dwarf with him. This one darker haired. The blonde looked at her and almost stopped. He caught the other dwarf's shoulder and whispered something in his ear, his eyes never leaving her. The darker dwarf then looked at her with a glower as well.

"Such a magnificent?" her father egged her on to finish her sentence and not stand sit there with her mouth open as if she was a fresh caught fish.

Alea tore her eyes away and shook her head, "Apologies, magnificent palace."

King Thror looked at the dwarves coming in, "Ah! About time, lads. Allow me to present my grandsons, Frerin and my son's heir, Thorin."

The two dwarves took their seats in the two remaining spots. "Frerin" was too her left, and Thorin was seated directly in front of her. Alea could not sink into her chair far enough. Frerin was talking to the dark hair dwarrowdam who had also been staring at her. Alea swore she could have cut the tension with her dinner knife.

All to soon — in Alea's opinion — there was nothing on her plate. Nothing left for her to busy herself with. She wasn't about to look up from her plate to the six eyes she had no doubt were still upon her. She had tried to pay attention to her father's conversations, but they were now eating rather than talking. Deciding she had to do something or simply go mad, she nudged her father.

"I feel ill, may I return to the rooms?"

He nodded quickly, assuming the dwarven food must have unsettled her stomach being it was the first time she'd eaten it. He motioned for one of the elven guards to escort her. The guard gave her a quick smile, pitying her fiend illness, and then began to head towards the halls. Alea all but jumped out of her chair. She felt her entire body relax as soon as they rounded the corner, perhaps she'd just remain in her chamber the rest of the stay.

* * *

"I don't like this, Thorin. They're up to something."

Thorin looked up at his brother who had been pacing in front of the fire for the last half hour. He had been trying to read on the chronicles of dwarven military conflict, but he was too distracted by Frerin's fidgeting.

"Again, neither do I. Yet, I do not think Thranduil is dimwitted enough to steal from us with such a small number. He's seen the guards roaming the halls, he commented on it during dinner."

"You give the elves too much credit," Frerin scoffed.

Thorin's brow furrowed, "And you give them not enough. It is better to overestimate the enemy than to underestimate them. Some of the elves here are thousands of years old; they have the luxury of time to perfect their schemes. They would not risk stealing from us on such a small scale. What would it gain them?"

Frerin knew he was bested and returned to his pacing. Thorin's eyes went down to his book once more. He had read the last two sentences on the page ten times. He kept thinking about something Thranduil had said during dinner. "The accumulation of gold can become more of a burden than a blessing." What was he playing at? Thorin knew there was an underlying meaning to his words, he just couldn't decipher it.

He watched Frerin's feet come to a halt again, making Thorin look up at him expectantly. He wasn't looking at him; his back was towards Thorin as he gazed into the fire.

"I caught that one she-elf staring at the treasure, I told you. I've never seen her here before. What if they're using her to steal something? She left rather suddenly during dinner. Probably went to explore the treasure while we were still eating, the devious elf."

"She's hardly taller than you or I," he stated matter-of-factly, he didn't have to energy to humor his brother any longer, "What could she carry from the Treasure Hall?"

"Thranduil said he is fond of silver and diamonds. Necklaces and crowns of such description lie in the hoard. What is she is tasked with retrieving something small?"

Thorin closed his book. Frerin was right. Thranduil had made such hints before, but this was the first time they had come to the mountain with a she-elf. Frerin was making too much sense. He shook his head.

"There are guards in the Treasure Hall."

Frein scoffed, "Guards who are weary from a long day's work and who will most likely lose attentiveness in the hours past midnight."

Thorin knew Frerin wanted to survey the hallways, and they should. He didn't want to appear to be overly suspicious towards the elves. That's what was keeping him in this room, but what Frerin was saying warranted at least a quick walkthrough of the lower halls. He grabbed his swords from the table in front of him and sheathed it.

"Let's go have a look."

* * *

Alea laid in her bed. Bored. That was the only word to describe it. In her four centuries of living, she had only found bored to be an emotion that had no degree. You could be offended, mad, angry, irate, and raging. Or you could be melancholy, upset, sad, depressed, beside yourself, or hysterical. Yet, when it came to boredom it was just simply maddening boredom.

Her fingers tapped against her stomach as she attempted to think of nothing. Yet she would soon find herself wondering if the river felt cool tonight or if the trees were beginning to bloom in the coming spring heat. Her mind wandered to wondering what her kin were doing back in the Greenwood.

_No!_

She sat straight up in her bed. Tonight was the only night her favorite star would be out for the entire year. Every elf in the Greenwood would be up looking at it, enjoying its beauty and she was stuck in this dreary cave, wasting away. Her feet twitched and her arms itched. She couldn't lay still.

A few moments later, she was putting on her cloak before she had even decided to go. She wasn't supposed to go outside her room, but surely her father would understand. Tonight of all nights. And to see the star from atop the Lonely Mountain! She couldn't give up the opportunity to see such a sight —and then brag to her kin once she returned at how she had spent her night under the heavens.

Without so much as a second thought, she quickly slipped through her door. She stood perfectly still for a few moments, making sure her father had not heard her next door. He hadn't checked on her after dinner, so he must have thought she was already asleep. _Perfect._

She tip toed to the nearest staircase leading up. Once she was sure she wasn't going to waken her father, she ran up the stairs and out of sight.

* * *

**Thank you lovely readers! Till next time! **


End file.
